The Man in Her Life
by Sehrezad
Summary: "Come on, James, you just don't like the idea of him sleeping with your daughter," Snow looked at her husband with a bemused expression. "Of course I don't like the idea," James answered indignantly. James's musing about his feelings regarding Emma's relationship with August. Sequel to my other story, "Puppet Love". Established Emma/August; James' POV


**The Man in Her Life**

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Summary: _"Come on, James, you just don't like the idea of him sleeping with your daughter," Snow looked at her husband with a bemused expression. "Of course I don't like the idea," James answered indignantly, not even considering the fact that he was being absurd. _James's musing about his feelings regarding Emma's relationship with August. Sequel to my other story, "Puppet Love". Established Emma/August; James' POV

* * *

James held the door open for the old lady to enter the little store then, stepping out, he let it close behind him with the merry sound of the little bells hanging over it. With a happy smile and a bounce in his steps, he started towards the apartment he'd been sharing with his wife a little over a year now.

School had just ended for the summer which meant that they'd got to spend more time with their grandson. Just the mere thought of the boy filled James with awe because even after a year, he was still reeling from the fact that he was a grandfather. It was a wonderful feeling. He quickened his steps to get back to Snow and Henry, who were waiting for the mustard to arrive and to get back preparing lunch.

When he passed the Sheriff Department, he stopped in his tracks and on a whim, he turned around. He might as well say hello to his daughter, he thought as he entered the building. Ever since the curse was broken, the place had considerably changed. After people had begun to remember, one after another they came to the Sheriff requesting for a job in law enforcement. By now, the police force of Storybrook had grown into a considerable body of justice.

He passed the reception desk and waved to Ella who sat behind it talking with someone on the phone, then he turned the corner and walked up to Sheriff Swan's office. He was just about to knock when, through a crack in the blinds, he noticed that Emma wasn't alone in the room.

He stopped not wanting to interrupt anything and thought about leaving when he caught sight of August. He couldn't help it when his legs refused to move and he stood glued to the floor unable to tear his eyes away from the scene in the room.

As inconspicously as he could possibly do standing in front of a closed door, he peeked into the room and saw Emma's profile. She was leaning against the front of her desk and August was standing right in front of her with legs apart to get closer to her. His hands were resting on her hips and his head was slightly bowed, intently listening to whatever Emma was telling him. James frowned. Why did the man have to invade her personal space? He should really back off.

It'd been more than a year but August still made his skin crawl. There were days when he simply wanted to wipe that confident look he was walking around with off of his face. It just irked him that the ex-puppet was acting with an air around him that was filled with his conviction of knowing everything about Emma. In James' opinion knocking up a girl then leaving her didn't make him know her.

Snow constantly expressed her amusement – and more lately, her annoyance – at his acting the part of a jealous, overprotective father but James knew that it was more than that. There was something in that man that just didn't bode well with him.

* * *

"_Would you stop staring at them?" Snow asked getting annoyed with her husband. James had brought her out on a date but it seemed that having a good time was not on her distracted husband's mind._

"_What?" James returned his attention to his wife. He looked distracted though._

"_They are on a date. Let them be."_

_At that James grumbled something unintelligible as he grudgingly turned back to his food._

_Snow narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "You knew," she accused her husband whose eyes once again returned to the pair sitting a couple of tables away deeply engrossed in their own little world. "You knew that he was taking her here."_

"_What?" the question once again left his mouth and Snow sighed. It seemed that she couldn't get more than two words at a time out of her husband._

"_I'm going home," Snow announced folding her napkin and putting it on the table._

"_What? Why?"_

"_James," she started standing and looking down at her husband, "you are really adorable when you go all overprotective daddy on Emma but it's getting really annoying at times." With that she turned to leave without waiting for him to follow._

"_Are you really leaving?"_

_Snow turned back to him. "Did you just say a whole sentence?"_

_The look in his wife's eyes made James sigh and with a last look in the direction of his daughter, he stood up, too. "Come on," he offered his arm to Snow. "Let's take a walk."_

* * *

From behind the door, silent laughter reached his ears and pulled him out of his thoughts. When he returned his attention to the occupants of the room, he could see Emma as she nodded with a huge smile and looked down at her midsection.

He shifted his eyes, too, and they landed on August's hands as they rested on her hips and his thumbs stroked the yet hardly visible baby bump of her daughter. He remembered then that she'd been scheduled for her second ultrasound exam in the morning.

A sudden wave of jealousy swept through him. Why didn't she tell them how it went? Why was she standing there laughing with that man? _Because that man was the father of that child, you moron_, a voice told him in his head but it did little to quell his building dislike towards the man in question.

Just like it didn't help at all when he could see August's thumbs pushing up the hem of Emma's shirt in search for naked skin. At that moment the only thing that kept him from tearing up the door and breaking the arms that were touching his daughter was that he really didn't want to make a scene.

That and a mental image of his wife with a clearly disapproving look. Yes, she would certainly disagree with his actions.

He finally settled for a mental note to mention it to Emma that she should wear longer shirts and not let any men touching her in a sexual way. Not that there was any sexual about the way August was touching her – it was more intimate – but still, no man should be touching her in any way.

And okay, what if he had issues with her baby girl having a sexual relationship with a man?

* * *

"_Come on, James, you just don't like the idea of him sleeping with your daughter," Snow looked at her husband with a bemused expression._

"_Of course I don't like the idea," James answered indignantly, not even considering the fact that he was being absurd._

"_She is a grown woman, you know."_

"_He knocked her up! Again."_

"_He didn't knock her up," Snow rolled her eyes. "They are together. They are having a baby."_

"_A baby they didn't plan."_

"_And what difference does it make? Did you see them? They are happy. James, please. Be happy for them."_

* * *

But it wasn't just about a guy banging his daughter. Well, that sounded wrong, he frowned.

In the back of his mind, he still wanted his daughter to marry someone with standing, someone who had royal blood flowing in his veins… someone with honor.

But this line of thoughts always made him feel uneasy - and not because in their current life in Storybrook the idea seemed completely outdated. It didn't bother him actually; it only made his argument just a little bit less convincing but he was willing to disregard that little detail. It made him feel uneasy because against all intents and purposes, he himself wasn't anything more than a shepherd boy. If nothing, his own example should tell him that no matter where one had come from if their hearts were in the right place.

But was August's heart in the right place? He had already left his daughter once… and he didn't hesitate to tell him that he had no intention whatsoever to marry his daughter. What did it tell about the man?

* * *

"_So," James started clasping his hands behind his back, assuming a position he hoped looked casual. "Are you planning on marrying my daughter?"_

_To his utter surprise, August chuckled before turning to him. "Not anytime soon. No."_

"_Don't you think that it would be the wisest action… considering that you've already got a son."_

"_And I love him… and I love Emma. But believe me if I tell you that the last thing Emma needs right now is a marriage proposal." And again, there was that all-knowing smirk on his face. "And anyway, I thought you hate the idea of me being anywhere near to your daughter."_

"_Don't take me amiss. I do hate the idea of it. But I also hate the idea of my daughter being a single mother who lives in an extramarital relationship."_

"_She's not a single mother. She's got me."_

"_And you are certainly not her husband," James pointed out then cleared his throat awkwardly when he got an incredulous look from the other man. Did he really sound that stupid? "Anyway... All I wanted to say is that – seeing I have not much say in the matter – you have my blessing whenever you decide to make an honest woman out of her. And just for the record, it would be advisable for it to happen sooner than later."_

"_Duly noted, Your Highness," August bowed his head in respect but James could swear that he saw mockery in his eyes._

* * *

That man had no respect for title at all. Thinking about it, he had no respect to whatever comes with a title. Rules and customs meant little to the man who had spent his whole adult life running away from commitments and responsibilities.

But was he alone with this kind of attitude?

Suddenly a dozen of pictures ran through his mind as he recalled all the accounts his friends – princes and peasants alike – had told him back in the day when their lives were about adventure.

Taking the road was a way to express their attitude toward a system that had brought them up, a kind of rebellion against the old ways. They set out in search of something that could give meaning to their lives. In a way, they had to go in order to change their lives and to change themselves... to be something more than anybody before them.

They all went against customs and rules.

And somehow they were never good at doing what they'd been told, either. Don't open the door, don't utter a word, under no circumstance you're allowed to fall asleep… But damn, they always got it right in the end.

Their stories didn't differ so much from that of August's. He had left and, no doubt, he had had his fair share of mistakes. However, it certainly didn't mean that August - Pinocchio - had changed and could actually act like a respectful and responsible man. It certainly didn't mean that he was the right man for his daughter.

* * *

"_Are you sure you're okay with this?" James asked apprehensively as they settled down at Granny's. "I mean I don't want you to feel embarrassed about getting caught hanging out with your old man."_

"_Funny," Emma remarked dryly, regarding James with furrowed brows. "Everything's all right?"_

"_Yes, why are you asking?" he asked with an uneasy smile._

"_You're acting strange. You seem… nervous?"_

"_I'm not nervous," James said more defensively than it was necessary then, when he realized that, he cleared his throat and smiled at Emma. "And anyway, we're not here to talk about me, I want to hear about you. What's going on in your life?"_

"_James," Emma looked at her father confused. "We are having lunch together every Sunday… we practically see each other every day. You know what's going on in my life."_

"_Well," James cleared his throat once again and when Emma raised a questioning eyebrow, he shifted in his seat and sighed. "I just want to know if there is anything you don't feel comfortable talking about when we are all together," he admitted, putting special emphasis on 'all'. He hoped that Emma would catch on his meaning while he simultaneously wished for her not to._

_That was utterly awkward, he concluded. Basically he had no right to poke his nose into Emma's private life. Somehow he suspected that she wouldn't take it well even if he'd been there for her in her entire life… and there was no telling how she'd take it now that she'd only known him as her father for only a couple of months._

"_You just want to know whether August is treating me right," Emma observed with narrowed eyes. She did catch on his meaning after all._

"_You can't blame me for looking out for you," James answered somewhat sheepishly._

"_Thank you," Emma said with a sincere smile then leant in and pecked her father's cheek. James couldn't wipe the grin off of his face for the entire day._

* * *

Well, after all Snow might be right: he was acting the part of a jealous, overprotective father. But damn, he had the right to act so. And what if August was a good man? What if he really loved his daughter and made her happy? What if he knew his daughter better than anyone else… better than her father himself? What if Emma's expression relaxed into a warm smile whenever she laid eyes on the man? None of that mattered simply because he was her father… her father who had missed the first twenty-eight years of her life. He was her father and it was his duty to make sure that nobody hurt his baby girl, especially the man who was supposed to take his place in her life to protect her… to love her.

And once again her happy laughter pulled him out of his thoughts and he watched as she sneaked her arms around August's neck and pulled him close for a slow kiss. And once again he wanted to barge in and demand that the man remove his hands off of her daughter but the smile that Emma gave August when they parted made him reconsider his idea.

He knew that look. He saw it everyday. That was the look that always made him feel like the luckiest man in the world. That was the look he saw on Snow's face when she looked at him, the look that told him that his wife was truly happy.

A small, uninvited smile appeared on his lips as he realized that in spite of everything he might think about August, Emma did truly love him and it seemed that the man was indeed making her happy.

Well, maybe he should invite the man out for a drink, he admitted grudgingly. _What a genius_, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Snow echoed in his mind.

He chuckled to himself as he turned to leave. Maybe he had got a little overboard with his protectiveness toward Emma. But could he really be blamed? He had missed almost thirty years of her life. He had quite a few years to make up for.

**THE END**

_Thanks for reading!_


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